


Boys with Blue Eyes

by Spylace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Disability, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Jealousy, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Inaccuracies, Memory Alteration, Misunderstandings, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Super Soldier Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Spylace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that story about being able to see colors when you meet your soulmate? </p><p>(It’s a lie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys with Blue Eyes

**I**

Bucky is fifteen. Beautiful even in black-and-white, eyes wide and expressive with a boyish grin tugging at his lips.

He waves Steve down when he comes around the block. His cheeks are darker than usual, painted with the intensity of a flower in bloom like Mrs. Phillip’s geraniums which grow wild in the height of summer. They’re blue, she says proudly whenever he sits on top of the stairs to trace the petals.

Blue is the color of the sky, the sea, the mayor’s new coat and Picasso’s paintings.

Steve’s never seen the color blue but he thinks he would like it a lot. It’s something he associates with Bucky. Pleasant. Good.

“I got the job.” Bucky blurts out instead of saying hello.

“That’s great Buck.” Steve beams. Bucky’s got three little sisters, a lot of mouths to feed. But there’s more. He can see it in the way Bucky dances on the spot, fidgeting like a nervy horse. Steve laughs and goes willingly when the other boy pulls him aside, his breath ruffling his pale, grey hair.

“Steve, Steve.” Bucky says, voice hushed and awed.

He’s never seen him quite like this before. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said Bucky was in love.

Then Bucky breaks his heart by saying,

“Your eyes are blue.”

 

Steve’s lived in a monochromatic world since he was born. This is normal even if his health isn’t. Everyone knows you get your colors when you meet the one.

His mother describes colors like she’s dispensing medication or is telling Steve to come inside because he’s going to catch a cold. But how do you describe red to someone who’s never seen colors? How do you tell them that bananas are yellow, oranges are orange, the sea is blue, grass is green, trees are green until they aren’t?

Steve squints up at the sky flossed with pale clouds and wonders what it looks like because he can’t imagine such a thing, he can’t imagine something so big and wide poured into his very own eyes, the same color Bucky saw coming up the streets breathless because he’d finally met his soulmate.

But Steve does not see color. He tries and tries and tries so hard but nothing happens. The world remains a plain, grey place and he nearly gives himself a fit trying to make it change.

He rubs furiously at his eyes, letting the salt dot his sleeves at the sheer injustice of being denied. Because Steve still lives in a world of black-and-white. Brick is grey, grass grey, bananas, oranges, the sea is all an unflattering, boring grey. Bucky might have found his soulmate—Steve persuades him to talk to everyone on the block. Even Mrs. McGinnis who is ninety if she is a day.

It’s funny. How stupid could he have been to think that he was Bucky’s soulmate?

“You are my soulmate.” Bucky insists on their night out.

Steve’s date ditched him. Bucky ditched his to keep him company.

For a moment, Steve lets himself believe.

 

The next ten years are washed permanent grey, like a fog rolling down from the far horizon. The mist that laps at the concrete coming off the harbor.

Steve still doesn’t see colors and Bucky takes it astride. Nothing really changes between them. They’re still best friends. But there is emptiness in his chest, an extra chamber to his heart that refuses to be filled. It weeps _if only, if only_ when he sees Bucky with another bird at his elbow and on one occasion—a boy.

“What about it?” Bucky says defiantly as though Steve was ever going to be someone to defend himself against.

The other man’s cheek darkens as though he is angry even though he’s really afraid. Steve’s the one who risks losing his best friend but Bucky looks at him like he’s everything. Bucky, who told him that his eyes are blue and it didn’t matter if he couldn’t see in color because he thinks they’re soul mates.

Steve almost doesn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. His cheeks are hot, his eyes, his face, like he has a fever. Bucky hurriedly puts a hand on his forehead and compares it to his own.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I wish you didn’t.” Bucky sighs.

 

War begins and Nazi Germany does what colors couldn’t.

It tears them apart.

Bucky is handsome in his new uniform. The dames can’t keep their eyes off his shoulders.

He can’t either to be honest. Steve doesn’t tell Bucky about the man he met the night before. A man who told him he could fight despite his bad lungs.

“Do me a favor.” Bucky murmurs like they’re lovers. He squeezes his shoulder, neither making a claim nor denying it. Neutral as per Steve’s wishes even though it’s like being fifteen all over again and Bucky convinced that they were soulmates.

Maybe he still is.

“Keep your nose clean punk. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

Steve hugs Bucky tight. Wishing that he had colors, brown to brush Bucky’s hair with, red for his roguish mouth. “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.”

 

His lungs expand, ballooning beneath his ribs. But most astounding of all, Steve can see colors.

There are shades to the chilly ambiance of the room, qualities he can’t explain. The dark grey of Peggy Carter’s uniform is something else. She touches him and he stares wide-eyed at her heart-shaped face and her bright lips.

“What color is that?” He asks.

Peggy is stunned. Everyone else seems embarrassed for him.

“I guess congratulations are in order.” Howard Stark says slyly and Peggy shoots in a poisonous look.

“How do you feel?” She asks him.

Steve feels elated, relieved—he’s not broken after all. He’s finally found his soulmate and it’s not Bucky. It was never going to be Bucky.

“Taller.” He swallows. “I feel taller.”

 

“This is not how I imagined it.”

At the snort of laughter he blushes and says, “I mean, I thought you’re supposed to see colors when you first meet. Why now? Why not when we first met?”

The smile on Peggy’s face is fond. She sits across from him, on the bed Dr. Erskine sat the night before.

“Do you...” He stammers.

He’s never done this before. The only person he’s ever wanted Bucky and he knew Bucky better than the back of his hand. “Do you see colors?”

It’s terrible. It feels like he’s betrayed Dr. Erskine’s trust by seeing colors just as he’s become someone else. He thought the inside counted. Seeing the rosy flesh of his upturned palms, he’s not so sure.

A hand fits on his shoulder, smaller than Bucky’s but just as firm, warm and not just black-and-white.

“Some people say we start to see colors when we’re ready to love.” And her eyes are far away, maybe thinking about someone else. Someone who gave her colors long before he came along. “Maybe you’re just ready to see them.”

**II**

"Bucky, your eyes are blue."

His heart thuds once before crumpling to dust. It felt worse than anything he felt under Hydra's knife, the walls closing in on him every time a little man turned the lights on and cut in.

He manages a grin.

"Who's the lucky lady?"

His eyes are blue, the color of water, powdered snow and mirror shards cupped in his hand. Not like Steve who's got the prettiest eyes he's ever seen. He's known that since he was fifteen.

Steve finally has colors and it's not for him. He's waited ten years for Steve to get his colors, he never thought it would be for someone else. Or maybe he did and he just didn't want to believe it. Bucky's seen the way Stevie eyes her, Agent Carter with her big brown eyes and bright red lipstick. He's been told since childhood you get your color when you meet your soulmate and when he got the job, a dollar a week for a bit of hauling at the docks, he knew he could wait. He knew he would wait.

For the first time in years, he goes to church without being asked and prays. Steve's soulmate is another but Bucky still sees blue.

 

Bucky wears blue. Not a bright blue as the costume Steve insists is warm enough but still blue. He gets the punk a coat with the same cut, just a different color, to cover himself up because stars and stripes on the front lines is just asking to be shot at.

But he can't see red or blue. He only sees white and he thinks he's gone blind. Maybe Steve was right and they were never soulmates. Maybe his was some place else and is gone now, striking him stone blind.

The sky is a ribbon of grey. The mountains are jagged black. Then something stars to drag him backwards and he sees red bloom across the snow. Red for blood, red the color of Peggy Carter's lipstick and the paint on Stevie's shield.

Bucky struggles. He can't go yet, he has to wait.

He has to wait for Steve.

 

Pain.

It hurts a lot. It hurts a lot, lot to be honest and his eyes tear up as he sees colors he can't put a name to.

There are men standing over him, holding him down, shoving shit under his skin and he lashes out because he knows what comes next. He remembers being here before and he sees the color blue in the little man's eyes.

He wishes he had no colors.

 

The arm at his side has no colors and he takes comfort in the steely-grey.

The men know better now than to wear color. They move around him in ripples of white and grey, black if they're soldiers, a dab of green if they are important.

They praise him; they are delighted with his progress.

He doesn't understand.

He closes his eyes and waits for sleep.

 

He's waiting for someone.

The man's eyes are blue but they're the wrong kind of blue.

Blue is the color of happiness, joy and hope.

There is no hope within these walls.

 

A soldier has no need for colors. An assassin only needs a target.

The sky is clear and it's a passing thought. There is no wind. Very few are awake at this hour, most are in their beds.

He lays still as his target exits the building, arm and arm with his wife. Her blond hair reminds him of things. The sunlight in his palms, spilling across his lap. It reminds him of warmth and a boy with beautiful eyes. He doesn't know what it means.

His target is in his sights.

He fires.

 

"Get me adrenaline!"

"Which box?" He asks huskily, reaching for the first aid kit.

"The red, shit, your left, your other left!" The man snarls, trying to keep the redness from seeping out.

The soldier grabs the red box and says with satisfaction, "red" even as men recoil. Rumlow tears the box from his hands and finds a needle, stabbing it in the boy's thighs. The boy chokes, his face grey like it's been drained of color.

Someone mutters, "he can see colors?" and Cooper groans, the boy safe for now, "don't tell me you believe that BS about soulmates. Colors are something you get when your balls drop."

Laughing uneasily, a man asks "And when was that Coop?"

"Shut the fuck up." Cooper returns with equanimity.

Rumlow leans back beside him and he press their shoulders together. For the first time, he sees that his eyes are brown, not black.

The man says not unkindly, "It doesn't mean a thing."

 

The boy is delirious. There is nothing more that can be done.

Cooper stays at his side, monitoring his vitals, hearing his heart tick down beat by beat.

Still awake, he moves to look at the boy and his ashen face. He brushes the strands of red hair away and is sorry that he can't do more.

"You can see colors." The boy slurs and crouched in the darkness, only the moonlight to guide them by, he's the right color for a memory he knew once. "Yes" he answers and Cooper gives a dissatisfied grunt. But he says nothing more.

"That is awesome." The boy laughs, eyes crinkling with pain.

He knows pain. It may be the only thing he knows. He lets out a quiet, shushing noise, brushing his fingers on the inside of the boy's wrists.

"Means you've got a soulmate somewhere too right? I bet they're badass."

"I don't have a soulmate." He replies because he does not understand.

"But you've got colors."

"Hansen." Cooper warns quietly and the boy lowers his voice, his gaze conspiratory. "Everyone knows you get colors when you love someone."

"Winter," the boy says tiredly after a while. "Your eyes are blue."

 

He cries. He feels loss.

When they wipe him, he goes gratefully.

 

The man on the bridge has blue eyes, pink skin and hair spun from sunlight. He doesn't know this man, he doesn't know the colors but the blue is right. Blue is beautiful.

He should know this man. Colors become bright when he rests his eyes on him. It makes him so easy to follow.

"Bucky?" The man asks when his mask comes off.

He should know this name but he does not.

"Who the hell is Bucky?

**III**

"Using stem cells, the scientists have now..."

It's something on the news. A man can see colors. There is a short clip of him celebrating with his partner of ten years. And it strikes a chord within him to see them so happy.

"I knew," The man's partner says. "I knew we were meant for each other."

Steve turns to Bruce who's reading a magazine. But he can't get the words out. Bruce looks to him from the TV and back. He lifts a shoulder and says, "monochromacy is actually quite rare. Most people have partial colorblindness."

"But," he stammers. "You get your colors when you meet your soulmate."

"Science beats metaphysics Cap." Says Tony, sweeping into the room. He has a sandwich in hand and he bites into it as he sits down in the middle. "What are we talking about?"

"Colors." Bruce offers calmly. He looks at Steve in concern. "Nowadays, most neuroscientists think that you see colors when you're ready to love someone back."

Tony grunts in scorn and changes the channel.

"I was twenty-seven." Bruce smiles depreciatingly. "When I saw my first color."

Steve sees red, he sees green, yellow, blue, purple and brown. He can identify colors, he can name them. The first time he saw colors after the vita-rays. Peggy told him that maybe he was finally ready for love. But that hadn't been true had it?

"Jarvis?" He says out loud. "Where's Bucky?"

 

Bucky is on the shooting range, playing for monopoly money with Clint.

Clint raises a hand and melts away when he sees him. Maybe Bruce and Tony warned him. Likely, he sees the look on his face.

"Steve." Bucky acknowledges with a nod, putting the crossbow away. "How's it going?"

"Bucky, do you remember..." He hesitates because there are things that Bucky does not remember. Things stolen in the cold. He licks his lips. "Do you remember colors?"

The other man doesn't answer. He takes his share of his winnings and puts them in his pockets. Steve asks who won. Bucky answers that he did.

"I remember." Bucky says suddenly. "I got a job. I was coming back when I saw you. You had blue eyes. I knew because your ma said it all the time. You were _beautiful_ and I knew," his breath catches. Bucky swallows. "I knew."

Steve steps into his space and grabs both of his shoulders. Bucky's right shoulder molds to his grip but the left is hard and cool to the touch. He unconsciously covers the star with his palms. Red the color of Peggy's lipstick and the stripes on his shield.

"I'm ready." He breathes and after a moment of indecision, presses their lips together.

Bucky is unmoved, cold as stone. Then he shivers, lets out a moan and licks into his mouth. Steve repeats, "I'm ready." because it doesn't matter when he saw the colors or why. It doesn't matter that his world remained grey when Bucky saw blue. He loves Bucky. He's always loved Bucky.

It tingles when they part. Bucky spreads his hand on the small of his back and nudges him close.

He looks into his eyes.

"Bucky, your eyes are blue."

 

**Author's Note:**

> +In comics, Steve Rogers has colorblindness. For the purposes of this story, he has monochromacy but it's more likely that he had red-green partial colorblindness since that is the more common form.  
> ++In this story, you start seeing colors when you're ready to love someone back (romantically), not before. So no pressure, kay?


End file.
